Way Leads on to Way
by Tavyn
Summary: Harry tries to find some peace and quiet after the Legends drop in on S.T.A.R. Labs. Instead, he finds himself very interested in what Sara Lance has to say about their respective relationships...or lack thereof.


**Author's Note:** For the Ficcingcaptaincanary prompt, "Sara and Len see a non-canon Legends of Flarrowverse pairing that makes them realize they're in love," and a belated birthday present for my friend ClaudiaRain. Title is a reference to her epic Snowells story, All the Difference. Hope you enjoy it!

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S.T.A.R. Labs had become an absolute madhouse since "Team Legends" had descended upon them. Harry had advised Allen – quite sagely, in his opinion – _not_ to call the band of misfits for help with their latest crisis. How could they possibly contribute, anyway, when half the time they managed to mess things up worse than when they'd started?

But, once again, his wisdom had gone unheeded, and now their lives had devolved into chaos. Everywhere Harry went, people were arguing, or breaking things, or drinking – he'd been forced to retreat to the speed lab just for a little peace and quiet. He shook his head. _Ridiculous_.

He'd just stretched out with a book, feet up on the desk and coffee hot beside him – he had to admit, HR was right about installing that espresso machine – when his hopes for solitude were dashed by one Sara Lance.

"Hey," she said, giving him a polite nod as she approached the newly-installed punching bag.

Harry really should've guessed he'd see her here. She'd turned the speed lab into her own personal training room, and was already getting more use out of it than Allen ever had. He spared a moment to watch as she relieved herself of her S.T.A.R. Labs sweatshirt – he suspected the whole team would be wearing them soon – before turning back to his coffee.

To her credit, Sara was one of the least annoying of their guests. She was quiet, even when training. She was smart, and she didn't take anyone's shit – not even Allen's. She was also a hell of a fighter, he couldn't deny that, glancing at her again as she began warming up.

And yet, despite all her strength (or maybe because of it), there was also something soft about her, too. She had a good heart, and was a fierce protector of the people she loved.

In many ways, she reminded him of Caitlin Snow.

"Leonard's a lucky man," he said to himself, taking a sip from his mug. It was a thought which would have been better served staying in his head, sure, but he'd spoken quietly enough that most people standing that far away, distracted by wailing on a punching bag, would not have heard him.

Sara Lance wasn't most people.

 _She was a trained assassin, Wells,_ he mentally smacked himself, as she stopped her exercise immediately and turned to him, eyes sharper than her knives.

"Excuse me?"

Two small words, and yet Harry had rarely heard any phrase so dangerous. He almost spit out his coffee, forcing himself to swallow with a gulp.

"Apologies," he said, setting his mug down and holding his hands up by his head in a plea. Leonard had warned him that at any given moment she'd have six or seven of those devilish knives stashed on her person. He could only hope she had some kind of code about not harming unarmed men.

"I wasn't trying to be sexist," he continued, watching warily as she slowly approached him. "I just meant," he back-pedaled, filling the deadly silence, "that your boyfriend is lucky." Her eyes narrowed, and he corrected, "Partner. Your partner is lucky."

He mentally grimaced as she came closer, arms crossed and body language practically screaming, _you fucked with the wrong woman_.

Harry liked Leonard, he really did. Out of all the so-called "Legends," they got along the best. They had the same kind of wit, the same desire to be free from the stupidity of others. Harry had thought he liked Sara too – even though they'd barely spoken, he felt he knew a lot about her, from everything Leonard had said.

But he was a big enough man to admit when he was scared shitless.

"Leonard is lucky to be with a woman who could kick any man's ass," he tried. Her eyebrows twitched. _Nope, that's worse._ "Leonard is lucky to be with…someone…who could kick anyone's ass," he amended, again. "Man, woman, alien, you name it. In fact, I'm sure you could kick my ass right now. Please, feel free. I deserve it."

She stopped in front of where he was seated, leaning over the desk and looking down upon him like a judge about to sentence the guilty. He braced himself when she opened her mouth to finally speak.

"We're not together."

He flinched, expecting a punch, taking a long second to connect her words together in his brain.

"You're not…" He dropped his hands, finally, crossing his arms over his chest as he appraised her. "Wait a second," he chuckled, embracing the full return of his normal confidence once he realized she wasn't about to kill him. "You mean to tell me, that after all the time you spend together, and the way you look at each other, and the way he talks about you – you're really. You're just, what, _friends_?" He scoffed, rolling his eyes and leaning all the way back in his chair. "You've got to be kidding me."

By the time he recovered from his surprise (and relief) enough to look at her again, her arms were still crossed and her eyes were still narrowed, but the deadly expression was gone, replaced by a – not that he'd say it to her – disgruntled pouting.

"Honestly," he said, trying his best to fight the smile creeping onto his face, "why not?"

He ran his mind back over everything he knew about the couple, re-evaluating what he'd thought with this new piece of information. He'd seen a couple head over heels in love. One of them regularly orbited the other, eyes conveying novels anytime they met each others' gaze. They seemed to hardly need words to speak, body language telling all the needs and wants that any fool could see.

Couldn't they?

"Seems like you must have a _lot_ of unresolved sexual tension," he commented, earning himself an eye roll so severe he wondered how she kept her eyes in her head.

"It's…" she shrugged, mouth opening and closing a few times as she searched for the words. "We've come close. A few times. Things…" she trailed off, gesturing aimlessly. "Things get in the way."

Harry had heard about a few of them. Things like "dying" and "being brainwashed by a team of our arch-nemeses" did seem to be insurmountable barriers to a relationship. And yet…

"What's standing in your way now?" he asked. "You're both here. We're all about to save the world, for the umpteenth time. From where I'm sitting, I can't see anything stopping you."

"I'd just mess it up." She bit her lip, her eyes falling to study her feet. "Or he would," she added, fairly. "Either way, then what? Then we have nothing, and I don't wanna risk what we have now."

Harry nodded, taking another sip of coffee as he thought about what he could say that would change her mind. He'd seen enough to know that there wouldn't be any risk at all, but then, his opinion didn't really matter if she wouldn't believe it.

"You know, you're together on my earth," he said instead. "Happily married, as a matter of fact."

She perked at that, turning to him with a question in her eyes. "You're not supposed to tell us those kinds of things," she noted, though there was no chastisement in her tone.

"I'm just saying, maybe it's relevant."

She sighed, expression turning faraway again. "Well," she tilted her head, pausing as she considered. "How do you and Caitlin make it work?"

He nearly choked on his coffee.

"Excuse me?"

"I just mean, you guys don't seem to have any problems working together and being in a relationship. How do you do it?"

He pounded on his chest, coughing up little particles of coffee lodged in his throat. "We uh…" he blustered, "you see, uh…"

His brain had short circuited. Somewhere between the words "Caitlin" and "relationship," he'd lost all functional speech. It made him feel like he'd been caught in the act of taking something that didn't belong to him.

Because she didn't. He knew that.

"Wait," Sara grinned, looking so much more cat than Canary. "You and Caitlin aren't together? And here you are, giving _me_ grief over my relationship?"

 _Together._

One single word that described everything they weren't.

"I don't know what you mean," he said, wrenching back control of his mouth.

Sara wasn't having it. "You're a hypocrite."

Harry let his mind go carefully blank as he met her eyes.

"Why…what would even give you that idea?" he asked, embracing denial like a dear friend.

"Please," Sara scoffed. "You're supposed to be the smart one – at least I didn't bother playing dumb."

Harry didn't answer. He couldn't. When he stayed quiet, she shrugged, grinning even wider.

"Alright," she said, indulgently. "It's the way you're always standing so close together, whispering like you're telling secrets. It's the way she laughs at your jokes when no one else thinks you're funny."

"Hey," he interjected. "I'm always funny. People just don't like to admit when I'm right."

Sara rolled her eyes, continuing as if he hadn't spoken. "It's the way you call her 'Snow,' like it's your favorite word in the world. Come on, Wells. I've seen the way you look at her." Her grin shifted to a softer, teasing smile. "Admit it, you think the sun rises and sets in her eyes."

"Look," he huffed. "This is about you, not me."

She laughed. "No way, that's not fair. If I have to face this, so do you."

"There's nothing to face," he insisted.

"Nothing, huh?" She raised her eyebrows. "So, it wouldn't mean anything at all if I told you she never stops talking about you?"

He blinked. "She doesn't talk about me."

"Oh, yes she does," Sara nodded. "I swear. It doesn't matter what the topic is, she always brings you up."

Harry swallowed, telling himself that Sara was exaggerating.

"'I can't figure out how this meta's powers work. I'll have to ask Harry what he thinks.'" Sara pitched her voice, and put her hand to her face in such a Caitlin-esque manner, he could almost hear Snow saying it.

"That doesn't mean anything," he deflected. "Obviously, she would come to me with problems for the team."

Sara smirked, continuing, "'You'll love this coffee, it's my favorite. Harry's, too.'"

Harry couldn't help but sit a little straighter at that. But it was still a stretch to say it meant anything –

Sara cut him off with a knowing smirk. "'Where'd Harry go? He's missing out on all the peace and quiet.'"

He frowned, telling himself that it was something a friend would say. Because that's all they were, right?

Sara heaved a dramatic sigh, quoting Caitlin for he hoped the final time, "'Don't tell Harry I told you this, but he's not actually an ass. He's actually really kind, and gentle. We're lucky we have him. I'm lucky.'" Sara paused, pinning him with a look. "I swear, those are her words, not mine."

"Stop." It was too much. He couldn't let himself believe this.

"I'll stop as soon as you stop pretending you don't know what I'm talking about."

He picked up his mug of coffee, only to set it down again with a resounding thud. He adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose, hating himself for fidgeting instead of shutting her down with a dry remark.

"It's never gonna happen," he said, finally. It was the most he could manage.

"Why not?" she pressed.

"She's too young for me, for starters."

Sara crossed her arms, not even deigning to give him a response. He was reaching for excuses and she knew it.

He looked down, then added, "She's too good for me."

"Maybe," Sara allowed, winking at his responding glare. "But don't you think she has the right to decide that? What've you got to lose by asking?"

He'd be lying if he said he'd never thought about it. He'd thought he'd been discreet, at least, but based on Sara's wiggling eyebrows, he'd been woefully wrong. If it was obvious to everyone anyway, Caitlin included, then really, Sara had a point.

"Alright," he relented. "I'll…talk to her."

"No," Sara said. "You'll kiss her. Today."

"Today?" he protested.

"Yes. Or you'll lose your nerve."

"I'm not going to kiss a woman who doesn't want to be kissed," he argued.

"Trust me," Sara insisted. "She'll be into it."

Harry waffled. He didn't like being told what to do, but there was some logic to her idea. Go big or go home, he supposed, but…

"Come on, Wells," Sara needled. "I dare you."

Well, he was never a man to back down from a challenge.

"Fine," he agreed, "but only on the condition that you do the same. With Leonard. Today."

"Fine," she nodded, immediately. Then she swallowed, eyes widening slightly as she realized he'd turned the tables on her.

"Fine," he repeated, cantankerously. For a minute, they just nodded to each other, both lost in their own thoughts of what they'd agreed to do. Or at least, to try.

And then, footsteps sounded from down the hall.

"Harrison Wells," Leonard's voice carried as he approached.

Harry glanced at Sara. Her body stilled, as if she were steeling herself for something. Not that she was planning to go for it right here, right now. Was she?

Leonard swaggered into the speed lab, smirk faltering for a moment as his eyes found Sara, but back in place by the time he shifted his gaze to Harry.

"Just the man I was looking for," he started, pointing at Harry. "We need to talk."

But whatever he was planning to say, he never got the chance. Before Leonard even realized what was happening, Sara was moving purposefully toward him, crossing the short distance between them like it was nothing.

Leonard's eyes had barely turned to her, his smirk had barely faded into a confused frown, when Sara threw her arms around his neck and kissed him, hard.

It seemed to take a second for Leonard to process, and for that, Harry could not blame him. But then he sank into it, wrapping his arms around Sara and pulling her against him. She responded in kind, hands finding his face, drawing him down and closer to her as she deepened the kiss.

Harry felt a twinge of jealousy, and had to look away. If they could close that gap, then maybe he and…

"Leonard, wait!"

Caitlin rushed into the room, stopping short as she took in Sara and Leonard, still kissing, neither stirring at her words.

Harry stood, feet carrying him toward her without asking why, focus narrowing in on her face, blocking out all else.

"I think they're a little preoccupied," he commented, when he finally reached her side. Her expression shifted, surprise and confusion melting into something softer as her eyes moved from the couple before her to him.

"Come here," he said, gently tugging her elbow toward the door and hall beyond. "I…there's something I need to tell you."

Sara Lance might've been brazen enough to make a move like that in front of an audience, but Harry wanted this moment – if he could really go through with it – to stay between him and Snow.

Caitlin nodded, turning toward the hall. But before he followed her out, he glanced over his shoulder, catching once last look at Sara and Leonard, just as they parted their kiss.

"What was that for?" Leonard murmured. His eyes were soft and wondering as he studied the woman in his arms.

"Making up for lost time," Sara replied, smile blooming onto her face before she lifted up to kiss him again.

Harry pushed back an uncomfortable lump in his throat as he joined Caitlin in the hallway. Seeing Sara and Leonard realize their own connection left him with far too much wanting, and far too many "what ifs" to let this moment go to waste.

"Look," he started, mind going totally blank as Caitlin's hazel eyes met his. He swallowed, dipping his head down as he took a breath. He could do this, he could –

And then her hands were cupping his face, and her mouth was on his, and he was kissing her, and all his doubts faded away.

He didn't understand how his hands knew exactly how to hold her, or how her body fit so beautifully next to his. But they did, and she did, and he didn't care why, or how, or what it would mean. She was like sunshine, and normally he'd hate himself for thinking such a cliché thought, but it was true, it was, and he was sick of living in darkness. Thankfully for him, she gave him several long, lingering minutes in the light, filled with so much promise of more to come.

When they finally parted, it took him a moment to remember how to open his eyes. By the time he did, Caitlin was giving him that knowing smile of hers, and he realized her hands were resting on his chest, and it was so beyond-belief perfect, he almost couldn't speak.

"What was that for?" he managed.

"I had a little chat with Leonard," she said. "He thinks we belong together. And he threatened to tell you as much if I didn't do something about it." She bit her lip, peering up at him uncertainly. "What do you think?"

"I think Leonard and I are even," he murmured. "And I agree wholeheartedly."

He kissed her again before she could ask what he meant, and her eyes were sparkling by the next time they parted.

"I guess we'll thank him later," she joked.

"Yes, later," he agreed, pulling her down the hall with every intention of finding a more private location. "Much, much later."

"Oh yeah, Wells?" Leonard interrupted.

Harry started as he watched the other couple approach, Leonard's hand wrapped firmly around Sara's as he tugged them even faster down the hall. "Good luck finding me."

Sara winked as they passed, waggling the fingers of her free hand at them with a challenging smile. "You're welcome," she added, lest he forget her part in this.

"You know we're going to have to top that, right?" Harry asked Caitlin, as Sara and Leonard disappeared around the corner.

"Absolutely," she agreed, planting a kiss on his cheek. "This is going to be fun."


End file.
